


Playlist

by obscurio



Series: Playlist [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Another AU by yours truly, F/M, I'm a sucker for these pre-established domestic aus okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-21 02:42:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12447996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obscurio/pseuds/obscurio
Summary: "If there’s anyone to blame for cockblocking, blame your shitty taste in music!"Domestic AU where Shiro tries to get his groove on, and Allura just isn't having it.





	Playlist

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by the shitposts of a friend on Discord. I can't write serious stories guys, all I know is memes.

Their evening should’ve ended in disaster due to the rain, but a little water couldn’t dampen their high spirits. Sharing his jacket, Shiro and Allura run to his car, their laughter trailing after them. Tucking her into the passenger seat, he’s about to pull away when Allura tugs him back, noses bumping before their lips meet in a kiss. Despite the chill, Shiro feels warm all over—perhaps due to his girlfriend’s wandering hands.

“Let’s save that for when we’re home, alright?” Shiro chuckles breathlessly as he pulls away, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. Ducking out of her hold, he runs to the other side of his car, sliding into the driver’s seat whilst tossing his jacket behind him.

The drive home was spent in a relatively comfortable silence, the soft tinkling of music settling an intimate ambiance between them. With their hands interlaced, Shiro brushes his thumb over her knuckles, every so often throwing a gentle smile Allura’s way. He thought nothing of it when she slipped her hand out of his hold, preferring to place it over his knee, giving it a squeeze.

With his eyes focused on the road, Shiro stiffens when he feels her hand dance up the length of his thigh, idly toying with his jean’s belt loop. From his peripheral vision, he spies her infamous _anything but innocent_ expression, a mood of hers he associates for times when she has evil machinations in store—for him specifically. Panic settles into his gut when her hand moves from his belt loop to finger the small tab of his zipper. He sends her a startled look, one she answers with a cheeky grin.

“Keep your eyes on the road, Shirogane,” she taunts whilst slowly pulling down the fastener of his jeans, and suddenly her hand was _there_ , palming the half hard boner he’d been sporting since she kissed him earlier. With a stuttered breath, he falls into her trap and concedes defeat. “I didn’t even have to goad you! You probably wanted this just as much as I did, hmm?”

He doesn’t justify her claim with an answer, choosing to ignore her wholly as she pulls his cock out from within the confines of his jeans. She begins her sweet torture with a downward stroke, tightening her hold at the base before using a feather-light touch upward. She continues her ministrations until he’s hard and straining for her touch.

Hissing through clenched teeth, Shiro fights back a groan when something _hot_ and _wet_ envelopes him. Looking down when reaching a stoplight, Shiro’s treated to the magnificent sight of his girlfriend’s soft lips wrapped around his cock, inch after inch sliding deeper into the softness of her mouth. Their heated gazes meet, and while maintaining eye contact, Allura takes in the last of him, winking before pulling back to press a line of butterfly kisses along the underside of his length.

“Fuck!” He curses under his breath, and with a jerk of his hips, he slides back into her open and waiting mouth, her tongue, slowly circling around the head. “ _Allura_.”

With one hand on the steering wheel, he uses the other to grip the fine hairs at the back of her head, his fingers twining into tufts of starlight, loosening the perfect chignon settled low at the nape of her neck. Allura moans softly, her free hand sliding in between her legs to alleviate the pressure between her hips.

“Fuck it,” Shiro expels a shaky breath as he turns into their complex’s parking garage. There’s no way they’ll make it up to their apartment in time. That’s either an awkward elevator trip, or four flights of stairs too far. Shiro slides into the closest secluded spot, devoid of inhabitants, hell-bent on getting his hands on silver haired  _tease_ beside him. 

Pulling away from Allura’s sweet, _sweet_ mouth, he leans over her, pulling on the lever to recline the passenger’s seat. Turning up the music to avoid suspicion, Shiro fumbles with his seatbelt, and as he moves to climb over her, he bumps his head into the sun roof, his elbow slamming into the steering wheel, activating the horn.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Shiro mumbles, torn between irritation and mortification at the thought of getting caught with his dick hanging out and his hand up his girlfriend’s skirt.

Allura laughs breathlessly at the sight he made. Taking pity upon him, she wraps her arms around his shoulders, pulling him down to initiate a soft, languid kiss. She feels the tension in his back melt away underneath her fingertips, until he’s nothing but a warm mass perched above her. He’s a comfortable weight settled between her thighs, his cocked pressed between them in the place she needs him the most, and the ache there has become almost too hard to ignore.

“Now, Takashi, now!” Allura keens. Their positioning is awkward, bordering painful even with the armrest digging into her back, but she refused to be deterred any longer. Keeping a hand at the nape of Shiro’s neck, she uses the other to slip between their bodies, tugging her panties aside. “ _Please_ —”

It takes little convincing to heed the demands of the woman writhing beneath him. With an arm bent at the elbow, propped against the headrest so he wouldn’t crush her with his weight, he uses his free hand to align himself against her slit, sinking slowly into her tight heat. They both suck in a breath once he’s fully seated deep within her, and just as Allura was about to _demand_ he set an unforgiving pace—fast and hard as she likes it—a familiar song blasts from the radio. A song that, despite its popularity, drove Allura absolutely _mad_.   

_We're no strangers to love_

_You know the rules and so do I_

_A full commitment's what I'm thinking of_

_You wouldn't get this from any other guy!_

“No!” Allura cries, pushing at Shiro’s chest, scooting higher up the seat, burying her face into her hands in mortification and anger. “No, no, no!”

“W-What’s wrong?” The dark haired man wheezes, obviously fighting back a laugh at their, rather odd, predicament. “It’s a good song—”

“Zip it!” Allura seethes, glaring at him as she struggles to open the backseat’s door. “I’m leaving. I can’t do this right now—”

“You can’t leave!” Shiro splutters, aghast, gesturing towards his _situation._ “Babe, please. Here I’ll change the song, but don’t leave me here like this—”

“I do as I please,” she retorts, nearly falling out of the car when the door finally gives way. “If there’s anyone to blame for cockblocking, blame your shitty taste in music, Takashi Shirogane!”

Sniffing daintily, she kicks off her heels, sweeping them into her arms as she walks towards the elevator, leaving her boyfriend behind without so much as a backward glance. With a groan, Shiro makes quick work of tucking himself back into his pants, reclining in his seat as the last notes of the song faded away.

“No one understands your lyrical genius, Rick,” Shiro sighs.

He’ll make it up to Allura. Possibly, and preferably, on his knees.


End file.
